ZEITGEIST [ZEITGEIST] The Continuing Adventures of Korrigan & Co.

Session 223, Part Three - Racing Angels

Racing Angels

The critic angels led the way, fluttering through the vault in one huge swarm that split apart so scores could scout each of the vault chambers. Like locusts, they stripped and destroyed smaller items, and carried off those beyond their power to destroy so that Hezophiel could shatter them with his spells. The trumpeters were the second rank, advancing in a methodical march. Every round they blared their horns, which shattered the bones that lined the hallways and stripped away traps and wards. Then movanic celestials shattered anything more sturdy, while Hezophiel watched to ensure nothing escaped. First to go was the long-dead titan Maur Granatha, reduced to motes in a split second. The legion celestial seemed to merely stand guard, but Gupta sensed that they were performing critical efforts perceptible only in the metaphysical realm, as they guided the evil essences trapped here away from this world and on to a proper plane in the multiverse.

The angels moved through the chambers in methodical, numerical order. From the Vault of Heretical Texts, they veered right, towards Unholy Arms and Armour and Blasphemous Artworks. Leon, Quratulain and Gupta went right, hoping to somehow free Linia before the angels headed their way. As they went, covering huge distances with one dimension door after another, Quratulain found that the name of the person who had taken the biography of Triegenes from the Vault of Heretical texts was on the tip of her tongue…

Uru and Uriel, meanwhile, were just a few minutes ahead of the heavenly host. Arriving in the Vault of Heretical Texts, Uriel realised he would not have time to pause and cast location loresight here without the angels catching up. Now he was back in the vault, though, he had a hunch, and he and Uru headed straight for Blasphemous Artworks. Here, as expected, they were challenged by Grunhilde, Giovanni’s gatekeeper. Uriel explained that they had earned the right to pass through here, having rescued the lillend Somnia from Belcamp the Bearded Devil. Grunhilde let them pass. It would be her final act; her demise would buy them more time.

When they arrived in the vault of Blasphemous Artworks, Uriel made a beeline for the depictions of the Seven Deadly Sins. When he was last here, in his embryonic, naïf-like form – still wearing the frayed robes of the Congregation of Adaljour and operating by instinct alone – he had been unaccountably drawn to the painting of Envy. Then, it had blasted him across the room as he tried to reach inside it, motivated by a curiosity he now understood to be prescience. Before the painting he paused. Within, he could see a lockbox, with a key already inside it. Something told him he need no longer worry about the magical defences here, and sure enough, when he reached for it this time, he was able to lean into the painting and take the lock box out. Inside was a small foolscap with a weathered vellum cover, locked with a leather band ending in a crude fishhook, noteworthy only for the intense smell of sea and salt.

The buzz of critic swarms could be heard approaching. Uriel placed the biography in his robes, where the extra-dimensional space would obfuscate the angels’ divinations, then took out a copy he had made (from memory) of Roland Stanfield’s Book of Transcendence: a guide to deva reincarnation. He handed it to Uru who destroyed both the book and the lockbox. As he watched the Book of Transcendence go up in flames, as the angel swarm buzzed into the Vault of Blasphemous Artwork and began gnawing at the fixtures and fittings, Uriel experienced a strange pang of loss. That book would never be needed again, as deva could no longer reincarnate. He endeavoured to settle his mind with the thought that they might put the world back the way it was, but could not shake the feeling that it would never be the same.

They did not have time to waste – they still felt the pull of Ashima-Shimtu’s compulsion. The greater angels had arrived too, and there was chaos and conflict all around, as the inhabitants of this chamber sought to defend themselves. Somnia the lillend came forward, arms raised and tried to explain that many here, such as herself, had been falsely imprisoned, and were good beings at heart. The angels set upon her without mercy. Uru was already heading out on Little Jack. Uriel turned his back on Somnia, though her defensive song still haunted him, until it was cut off moments later. “Should’ve picked a winning world philosophy,” said Uru.

Now what? Hook up with the others somehow? Uriel said that they should head for the demoness. Compulsion or no, he wanted to talk with her, as he had promised last time they were here. Uru didn’t like the sound of that. He hated Ashima-Shimtu and got a strange inkling from Uriel’s tone that he was thinking the unthinkable. At first he refused to follow, said he was going to find Leon, but then thought better of splitting the party even further, and followed Uriel on Little Jack, bitching and moaning all the way.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Crypta…

“Now I remember!” said Quratulain, recalling rumours that had come her way during her long internment. “A priest named Orhalder Skarathi sold his soul in order to become a hierarch, but ended up imprisoned here, and he stole the biography of Triegenes because he felt himself better than the founder of his faith. Maybe we could find him?” Unbeknownst to Quratulain (for the time being), the biography had already been secured and Orhalder Skarathi would be executed by the heavenly host in just a few moments.

Through the chamber of Cursed Items, they went. A few wights stood in their way, but they disposed of them with ease. Down through the trapped corridors to the vault of Afflicted Innocents, where they came upon both the poor, imprisoned architect and Linia.

They had no time to spare for poor Ennio Adolini – the angels would release him from his torments soon enough. Remembering how powerful the wards protecting Linia were – try as he might, Korrigan had been unable to free her – Leon used the oil of Colossus in the Wayfarer’s Lantern. He had only two vials of this precious, powerful oil and moments after he had used it, he regretted it: the wards imprisoning Linia had diminished, and freeing her was easy. Still, she was larger than an ordinary mortal female, and her wings alone were pretty heavy, so the increased carrying capacity bestowed by the lantern light, meant that lowering her to the ground was a more dignified affair than it might ordinarily have been. Not so the follow-up manoeuvre of shoving her into the absurdist web…

Leon consoled himself with the thought that the boost from the aura of the lamp would stand them in good stead if they had to fight their way out of the vault, or came into conflict with the angels. And they enjoyed another boon, too: Quratulain claimed dominion of the vault – quite a cathartic moment after her long imprisonment here – and was immediately aware of everything that was going on within its environs (including the fate of Orhalder Skarathi). She was then able to teleport to Uru and Uriel, bringing a message from Leon that they would meet at the chamber of Ashima-Shimtu.

Uru hoped to find an ally here – surely Quratulain, who had been trapped in sea ice by the demoness, would not countenance parleying with her? Quratulain replied that she was learning to trust Leon in the same way she did Korrigan, and then returned to him and Gupta.

Well dang, someone had to go and unintentionally remind me that this was a thing that exists and now I've got a metric ton of reading to do.

Session 223, Part Four - The Hammer and the Hook

SanjMerchant said:

Well dang, someone had to go and unintentionally remind me that this was a thing that exists and now I've got a metric ton of reading to do.

Click to expand...

Welcome back. Here's a bit more for you to catch up on:

The Hammer and the Hook

Once again, they came to the chamber of Ashima-Shimtu, and passed through the broken entrance hall with her sinister voice ringing in their heads:

“This island is to be cleansed, but is that salvation or oblivion? Ashima-Shimtu forswears her past, but is still so vain as to desire her last words. She speaks of the hammer and the hook.

“This final moment matters not in the life of the one known as Seneschal of the Demonocracy, the Last of the High Fiends. She has reflected, and believes a tale bereft of choice is unworthy of the telling.

“She asks, is a hammer that crafts a cathedral good? Is a hammer that shatters a skull evil? Ashima-Shimtu was not wielded. She chose her path, a long story that she might never have opportunity to tell. If she is to be shattered, she shall accept this long-postponed punishment.

“But this execution is not the act of evil men, nor good angels. It judges nothing, for the hand that hefted this hammer has vanished. It falls unguided. Where it strikes is no more a choice than where a pebble rolls in a stream.

“A choice did matter once to the Lady of the Forked Tongue. Like a fish in a stream she was snared by a hook, plucked from the world she was born to trawl. Perhaps the fisherman desired a wish in exchange for Ashima-Shimtu’s life, but she thinks not. He spoke these words, ‘Challenge yourself.’

“For an age and more, Ashima-Shimtu has hung, chained, voiceless. She had none to corrupt or tempt. What challenge was there, then, but herself? She is not as she was when condemned to this vault.

“If there is to be an end to her story, let it be that as once a fisherman granted her a gift of change, so has she given a choice to the faith he inspired. Their tongues have become as forked as hers, but they might challenge themselves. Such as she can, she prays that the hand that swings the hammer chooses wisely.”

With that, she fell silent, and relinquished all compulsion upon them.

When they came before her, she hung limply from her chains. First Leon, then Uriel, tried to question her further, but she did not respond.

So she had given the sacrament of apotheosis to Vitus Sigismund? If so, then she was the architect of the chaos in Crisillyir. Although she did not tell Vitus what to do with the sacrament, so was that charge entirely fair?

Clearly they were weighing up the pros and cons of freeing her, and this enraged Uru. He argued against such a move most strenuously, putting up the kind of determined opposition that the others had never heard from him before.

Uriel admitted to being somewhat confused. He wished Ashima-Shimtu would stop speaking of herself in the third person! Did she want them to free her? Leon said she did, and that he was of a mind to do so. He understood the power of redemption. But he was content to put the matter to a vote, if they did so quickly, for the heavenly host could not be far behind.

Uru increased the vehemence and pitch of his denunciations, as each of the votes came in:

Gupta said that it could not harm to have another powerful ally – so far they had two fey titans and a vsadni on their side. “Besides, we came here to save the gods not to kill them.”

Uriel said he was moved by her repentance, but did not cast his vote until after Quratulain spoke. She was Uru’s best hope of an ally, and he asked her directly what she thought of this insane idea. Quratulain thought for a moment longer and then said, “I am trying to think what Korrigan would do.”

She remembered their last visit here, when the demoness had first spoken of remorse, and how Korrigan had reacted at the time. She thought of all the second chances seen had seen him give their friends and foes. And then she said, “We should free her.”

At once, Uriel nodded his assent, and together he and Leon removed the hooks from her flesh and took her down.

Uru was apoplectic. Never before had he felt so at odds with the rest of the group.

Uriel asked Ashima-Shimtu if she had the power to transport them back to Alais Primos. Her eyes fluttered open. She was very weak. “Not enough blood,” she said. That could be dealt with: Quratulain could form blood bullets, empowered by her own physical might. Bolstered by the healing balm of the wayfarer’s lamp, she drew out both pistols and fired round after round into the water.

Uru said he would not go. He would make his way back through the vault alone. The others tried to dissuade him. When the angels discovered what they had done, it would make no difference to them that he had voted no. That gave him pause. He was angry, but not suicidal.

By now the water was red with Quratulain’s blood. Ashima-Shimtu worked her magic and one by one they leapt into the water.

Just before she jumped, Quratulain turned to Ashima-Shimtu, held as she was in Uriel’s arms, and said: “I am the hand of the King, and I no longer act out of vengeance. This is one demon who changed. Maybe you can as well.”

End of Session

Session 224, Part One

A last-minute change of heart

Ashima-Shimtu’s blood magic brought them to a secluded cove just down the coast from Alais Primos. They were surprised to find the demoness was still with them. She was able to wade towards the shore unaided. Wading out of the water, they immediately fell to discussing what to do with her, shouting over the breakers that crashed noisily against the pebble beach.

“Is she harmless now? Can we do what we like with her?” asked Quratulain.

“We should take her back to Risur and contain her,” said Uru, and some of the others nodded their assent.

Then they noticed that Ashima-Shimtu had stopped walking and still stood in knee-deep water. Without moving her lips, she said, “Ashima-Shimtu is grateful for her freedom, but will not exchange one prison for another. She considers it best that she continue her journey alone.”

Leon wondered if that might not be best, as entering Alais Primos with her in tow could mess everything up, but Uriel and Uru were both concerned about leaving her at large, unguided and unrestrained. Still, that seemed to be the way that things were tending. No one showed any sign of wanting to stop or restrain her.

“Before you go,” said Leon, “will we be able to speak with you? In return for our help, we ask that you agree to have a conversation with the King of Risur.”

“Ashima-Shimtu would of course consent to speak with the king. She is keen to do so.” With that, as enough drops of her blood spilled into the sea, she vanished.

Pre-trial Prep-work

Returning to Alais Primos, they saw plumes of smoke curling from the caldera of Enzyo Mons, lit up from below in lurid reds and oranges. Over the Plaza Hyperion, dark grey storm clouds flickered with ripples of black lightning, a sure sign of ominous portent obvious to even amateur skyseers.

With just over twenty-four hours to go until the trial, they decided their best and safest option was to return to the Family restaurant. There, they heard about a recent, high-powered assault on Vitus Sigismund and his supporters. The attempt had been led by another godhand supported by more angels. Angel had fought angel in the air above Alais Primos. Sadly, the uprising had failed. Would the attack have weakened the zealots, or strengthened their resolve?

Putting that matter aside for now, they secured some quiet, private space through the Family’s auspices, and settled down to study the Biography of Triegenes in depth, and prepare their arguments in detail. Gupta pointed out that this was more of a show-trial, and logic and hard proof would be secondary to showmanship. Uriel would study the biography; Leon would present their case.

While Uriel buried his nose in the ancient text, Leon went to Trekhom to collect Rumdoom. He and Korrigan had met with the Drakren political leadership and agreed a truce, much to the annoyance of Ob loyalists on their high council, provoking a particularly long speech by Von Hastenschrieft Willimarkanova (who Rumdoom had encountered before on Mutravir in the guise of Kiov Hetman; a protracted conversation that still gave him nightmares). But their actions in saving Mirsk won the day. Ironically, arriving late and failing to save Bhad Ryzhavdut had actually worked to their advantage: Komanov’s threat had been clearly illustrated, and her defeat outside Drakr’s second largest city was all the more public and dramatic. (The dwarves did not yet appear to know about the vsadni in the tower just yet; at least, they didn’t mention it.)

Invasion off, Rumdoom was able to return to Alais Primos and support the rest of the unit, in case of trouble. Korrigan, however, had to return to Risur, where vital kingly duties awaited him. He was mildly perturbed (though sanguine) about the release of Ashima-Shimtu, but gratified by the rescue of Linia. For now, she was lying huddled up and only semi-conscious, in a comfortable bed in Leon’s Dream Palace (renamed, now that it was formed of more than one chamber). Her physical wounds had been entirely healed by Uriel and Gupta. As soon as he was able, Korrigan would attempt to heal her fractured mind. But for now, there were more pressing matters:

By the time Leon arrived back in Alais Primos, Uriel had read the biography and – after an initial, breathless summary (“He wasn’t a God!”) – provided the following, lengthier synopsis:

Triegenes’s autobiography, much like the mortal man himself, is simple and unassuming. Its nine chapters are less than two hundred hand-written pages, and could be easily read in a couple hours. A fish hook made of crude iron keeps the leather band around it in place. He originally composed it as a long epistle to his followers, wanting them to know who he was since he was expecting to die in his battle against the leadership of the Demonocracy.

He discusses the ups and downs of his early life, referring to events involving cultures and politics long since vanished from the world. One day he was caught in a storm at sea and barely survived. Though he couches it in compelling metaphor, the core of the story is that he nearly died, realized that he was nearly forty, wife dead and he with no child, and he didn’t think he had been kind enough to others, so he vowed to challenge himself to do better. Due to local events, he ended up leading people into battle against conquerors from across the sea.

Several chapters are devoted to lessons he learned leading people in a war to establish a nation. He spends an entire page extolling the importance of getting enough sleep. A recurring theme is knowing that the purpose of power is not simply to gain more power. After several great victories he had his own nation, but he wanted to defeat the Demonocracy. He was worried that perhaps his ambitions were arrogance, but he defends himself as being motivated to help the slaves of the demons, people who were denied a chance to make more of themselves.

From the writing, it is clear that Triegenes did not trust some of his closest advisors during the campaign against the demons. Some suggested he take a more authoritarian and rigid approach towards ruling the lands they conquered. One passage includes a section that is underlined: “Their desires for power and comfort cannot come at the expense of the people, and I will not allow a new Demonocracy to rule in my name, no matter how pretty the clothes it wears or the masks it hides behind.”

The final chapter explains that he has learned how to gain the power of a god, but that if he dies with that power, so too will die those who believe in him. He has always challenged himself to become greater, and this would be the pinnacle of that goal. But if he has this power he fears he’ll become a tyrant, and he doesn’t want to risk the lives of his followers. He ends with what reads as fatalistic humor. “I have the greatest catch on my hook, but I’m not sure I want to eat it. After all, I’m only fighting horrors from the Abyss. I probably won’t need it. If I die in this battle, better it be as a man, not a god. I suppose I have enough power already.”

The revelation of his biography, then, is that he never used the sacrament of apotheosis. He defeated the Demonocracy with his own power, and died in the process. Tales of his ascension to divinity were mere stories told by those who took power after him.

No wonder they wanted this book suppressed!

Uriel was bowled over. This book confirmed everything he had long suspected, ever since his time as Malthusius. (He couldn’t help but be curious. If they failed, and the sacrament was performed, what would happen? Who or what would be summoned? What form would Triegenes take?)

Gupta observed: “To think that all of these good intentions led to the most fascistic regime in all of Lanjyr.”

“So far…” said Uru. (Whose opinions on the direction Korrigan should take Risur were well documented.)

Session 224, Part Two - Advocatus Piscatorius

Advocatus Piscatorius

Arriving in the Plaza Hyperion early, they took up their places on the makeshift stage as the crowds began to gather in earnest. They waited for Legate Tullius to make her grand entrance, most focused on the task in hand, others distracted by the mystery of who the new ‘scapegoat’ for Triegenes would prove to be:

Morgan Cippiano had arrived at the Lamplano Pescateria that morning. He had been released, he said, by Vitus Sigismund, who told him he was not fit to stand for their god. In any case, they had found an altogether more deserving candidate. Cippiano needled Sigismund, and provoked him into saying that the substitute was “the leader of the recent attempt to undermine the work we now do”; a rival godhand who had been captured and professed himself willing to stand trial in Cippiano’s stead.

Of course, this did not bode well for the direction of the trial. Did Sigismund now want Triegenes to die?

Tens of thousands of people arrived in and around the plaza. The mood was fractious and desperate. As the pressure grew, Gupta kept a lookout for ringleaders but could not see any focal point. The people as a whole were on edge. She began to wonder if this was the best place to make their most dramatic revelations: that Triegenes did not ascend to godhood; and that if they executed him, they would all die! (This latter theory had been confirmed by Rumdoom and Uru. Just like in the Great Malice, when the gods died, their worshippers did too. The impact of death of Triegenes would dwarf that of the other, minor gods. With the help of the Family, they had got word of that out on the streets, spreading ahead of the trial.) Leon agreed and said he would save that for the closing arguments in the cathedral. Meantime, he lit the Wayfarer’s Lamp, filled with oil of Miller’s Pyre. Useful and fitting.

When Legate Tullius and her retinue finally did arrive, it was with less pomp and ceremony than before and a more subdued manner in keeping with the worrisome mood of the crowd – a clever change of pace and tone. Two angels swept down from above to keep an eye on proceedings. One took up a place next to Rumdoom, who grew to large size in response. The other dismissed the power of the Wayfarer Lantern with an airy wave. They were warned that the angels would detect any lies in their testimony.

Even before Legate Tullius’ procession drew near they could see the towering, manacled form of none other than Aulus Atticus, who had led the attack on Sigismund, failed and been captured. His piercing eyes were downcast, but when he raised them, and saw who was to defend him, they glanced about in search of Korrigan – the bearer of the Humble Hook who had sent him home from the jungle. But he was not there. Tellingly, the sigils necessary to perform the Sacrament of Apotheosis had already been daubed on his flesh.

The retinue mounted the stage and a gradual hush descended. Legate Tullius waited for this to happen naturally, then began to speak – her words magically amplified, as every word spoken from the stage would be. Even her soaring rhetoric had been toned down for the occasion, as she laid out the prosecution case:

Firstly, that Triegenes did not intercede when the Great Malice sundered his empire. “This most noble nation was once the greatest in the world, but its power has been surpassed by godless fiends in Danor, and primitive animists in Risur.”

Secondly, he had been prayed to by millions, but his blessings have only gone to the hierarchs of his religion. “Men who will not, even now, stand up to defend him, never mind come out of hiding.”

Thirdly, that he gave no warnings of the Great Eclipse, and so let the world fall into chaos.

She painted a vivid picture of all the death, destruction, and despair visited upon Crisillyir, and quoted scripture to support the claim that Triegenes had promised such things would never happen to those who followed his word.

While she spoke, the unit formed a judicial huddle, developing counter-arguments, drawing on their collective repertoire of knowledge, and suggesting modes of attack.

When she was done, Leon stood. He did not bother to alter his appearance, taking the risk of countering Tullius in the garb of an Unseen Courtier, with a mask in the form of a tiefling. (There was something oddly trustworthy about this brazen behaviour. …)

Putting forth arguments rehearsed with Uriel’s help, Leon set forth the case that this was a trial of the clergy, not Triegenes. That the crimes he was accused of were theirs. By the time of the Great Malice, the empire they had built was something close to the Demonocracy. And it was the clergy who caused the Great Malice themselves – a fate which could befall the people of Triegenes if they chose to execute his avatar. And the Great Eclipse? That could be blamed on the clergy too, considering how many of them had been working for the Ob. Leon quoted his fair share of scripture, pointing out that nowhere did Triegenes promise to fix all of mankind’s problems. But he steered clear of the biggest revelation, for fear of angering the mob.

When he was done, the crowd was almost silent. Uncertain of the outcome, and slightly taken aback by the subdued response, Legate Tullius directed the crowd to follow them to “the Cathedral of the Accused” where they would make final closing remarks. She left the plaza with her retinue and Aulus Atticus; the unit followed on. For the first time since the god trials began, the mob’s climb to the mountain top was hushed, rather than raucous.

Unbidden, horrible images came to Uriel – images of the great cathedral in flames.

[Weirdly, that was images of Notre Dame in flames, which started appearing on the internet while we were running this session. Spooky!]

Session 224, Part Three - A Final Act of Zealotry

A Final Act of Zealotry

After a meditative ascent, they reached the cathedral. Vitus waited at the balcony, flanked by templars, monks, and angels. Legate Tullius advanced and briefly whispered to Vitus. He contemplated what he had heard for a moment and then asked for closing statements.

The prosecution went first, and Legate Tullius spent three minutes rehashing her accusations,, and then looked up to the top of the cathedral as she finished. “All of these failures,” she says, “are symptoms of this god’s original sin. He has lied to us. He promised us divinity, said he would guide us to godhood. But in the thousand years since his ascendance, no other mortal has become a god. The closest to that are these very trials, wherein we the people’s tribunal have bound the gods to mortal flesh so they could be punished for abandoning us.

“Like the corrupt hierarchs and cardinals, Triegenes rose high, and he looked down at us and sniffed in disdain. In his arrogance, he decided his lofty position was for him alone. We could be gods, he said. But he kept that secret for himself.

“We have executed many of our deities for abandoning the pact they made with us. As founder of our faith, Triegenes is responsible for all those beneath him. As we found them guilty, so we must do for him. This liar god must be punished. To the fires with him. Burn away his evil so he may no longer lead us astray.”

Aulus Atticus shook his head at this, not out of fear for himself, but in disagreement, but many in the crowd howled for blood.

Then it was Leon’s turn to speak. He turned to the crowd, and held up the Biography of Triegenes. “Triegenes did not become a god,” he said bluntly. “This book, written by his own hand, tells us as much.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. He hadn’t softened the blow; the crowd were not yet ready to hear this, and Leon could sense that he had lost them.

Uriel could sense it too. He muttered a powerful spell – Undo – and rewound time just a few moments, for Leon to try again. This time, he began more carefully, told the story of the book’s rediscovery, and how the clergy had hidden it from the world for fear that it would expose the hyprocrisy and falsehood of their ‘interpretation’ of Triegenes’ teachings. And what were those teachings? Leon reminded all those who could hear of the powerful central tenets of his doctrine, and of the simplicity and humility of the man, before contrasting him with the greed and corruption of the clergy. This done, the audience was ready to hear the revelation and absorbed it in a silence so complete it almost muffled it.

The silence lasted until a lone voice cried, “Innocent! He is innocent! Free him!” Others joined the call and Sigismund’s followers looked to him for his response. Some seemed personally affected by the revelation too.

Vitus looked at the mob in disbelief, then shoved Aulus Atticus towards them. A moment later he yelled for everyone to back away, and even his allies and the angels gave him room. Then he pulls open his shirt to reveal that he had already painted himself with blood for the sacrament.

He roared, “They’ve tricked you, as I suspected. You’re all impure! Deceived by pleasing lies. Triegenes, you have failed me, and I have failed my people. I shall become you, and together our failure will burn away the lies and reveal a glorious truth!”

There were tears in his eyes. He began to chant for the sacrament of apotheosis - “Before I was nothing but words. Now I am all that is believed. I am faith made flesh. I am flesh made a god.”

Uriel saw the imminent catalyst of his earlier vision: whatever form Triegenes manifested, his death would sunder the wards around the crater of Enzio Mons, and release centuries of accumulated, molten evil into the world. In a flash, he saw it crawling out of the crater, belching pyroclastic bile and consuming Alais Primos. At once, he summoned a pillar of holy light to trap Sigismund, just as he had Grandis Komanov. But the godhand spoke on; the holy light did not affect him.

Neither Gupta nor Leon shared Uriel’s vision, but they feared the death of Triegenes would kill almost everyone in Crisillyir.

“Can’t you see that now is not the time?” asked Gupta. Sigismund froze, then pushed back against her spell. But by then, Leon had hit him with a Curse of Mouthless Muttering, and the threat of the sacrament was over.

Sigismund fell to his knees, then onto his side, and sobbed like a child.

His allies did not move. They stared at their fallen leader in shock – all except Legate Tullius whose eyes roamed around, assessing the situation. Before she could even attempt to take control of it, Leon stepped in, and handed the Biography of Triegenes to Aulus Atticus. Aulus took the small book in his huge hands and thanked him. Then he turned to Advorel and said, “The God Trials are over. Are you content to help rebuild this city, or will you fight to uphold the tenets laid down by this man?”

Advorel bowed his head and held his sword out to Aulus Atticus in an offer of service.

Gupta spoke to Advorel. “The leaders of this land believe they have the right to guide the angels. But if you truly seek to protect this world, know that it is under threat from a cosmic evil.” She told Advorel and his host about the gidim.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the sky. More angels came blazing in from above, led by Hezophiel the Reaper, who landed in the cathedral with a clang. He pointed an accusing finger at Leon and announced that he must pay for his deceit, and for freeing Ashima-Shimtu from her prison.

Uriel said, “We relinquish judgement to this angel,” indicating Advorel. Hezophiel turned to look up at Advorel. Clearly there was a moment of communication, which no one else was party to. Advorel’s eyes blazed red. Then Hezophiel knelt before him and laid down his scythe in submission.

“Never again shall angels slay their brethren in the service of the clergy,” said Aulus Atticus.

“So who’s in charge here now?” asked Uru.

Uriel pointed at Atticus and said, “He is.”

End of Session

A Dizzzying Anti-climax

I thought I would add a glimpse of what went on behind the scenes of our last session, because it was both surprising and interesting:

Before embarking on this section of the adventure I noticed that pretty much whatever the players do during the trial - whether they win, lose, or something in between - at some point, Sigismund will try to immolate himself, and when he does it takes 5 rounds.

Now 5 rounds is long enough for some combats, so my thinking was it probably wouldn't happen - the players have enough ways to prevent it and they would have 5 goes each.

Obviously, as DM, I kind of wanted the Catastrophe dragon to appear, but I didn't want to screw the players over or railroad them, but as we are playing in Cypher System, I knew that I could rely on the GM Intrusion XP mechanic, whereby a player receives 2XP when the GM nerfs their powers (passing one to an ally).

I was pretty sure this would work, and also sure that we would reach this climactic point by the end of the session, so I brought along my Wizards of the Coast Colossal Red Dragon Mini (which is still in its box... $$KERCHING!!!$$) and kept it in a big laundry bag under a nearby chair. (I'd got a handy fib ready in case anyone noticed it, but no one did.)

The session went pretty much as expected, with Leon acing his checks at the trial. As mentioned above, this was the same night Notre Dame went on fire, so images of that started popping up on players' phones during the earlier parts of the session, which I thought was a pretty weird coincidence. Then they got to the cathedral and Leon rolled a 1 during his final remarks.

As that outcome would cause the most confusion (and keep Vitus' allies on-side) I was going to intrude to insist he not reroll it (another Cypher mechanic), but Uriel used his Undo spell, and Leon passed. So Vitus was now isolated and took it upon himself to execute Triegenes.

Uriel, Gupta and Leon were the first to try to stop him. As planned, I began handing out tokens to nerf each power, whereupon the players turned the Cypher System mechanics against me for the first time since our reboot two years ago:

The system allows for players to refuse a GM Intrusion, turning down the XP offered, and spending one of their own. This was the first time they chose to refuse. Interestingly, their reasoning was that thousands may die if he did so, and it felt far more important than anything else they had done that session.

Gupta refused first, baffling Vitus with one of her trademarked Questions. I figured 'oh well, it will only last a round'. Then Leon hit him with Curse of Mouthless Muttering, and also turned down the XP. That spell lasts for a minute.

I had one of those panicky 'it's all going horribly wrong moments' before years of DMing experience kicked in and I realised that it was, in fact, all going horribly right. That this was a fantastic outcome for the players and for the campaign.

But I couldn't resist showing them what they could have won - in fact I quoted from the adventure text: “Congratulations, the PCs have averted a catastrophe, and they never have to face that lava dragon on the cover.” (Which I couldn't help but deliver with a tone of sarcasm.) Showed them the cover; showed them the mini; then wrapped up adventure 11 at least a week earlier than I had planned, without the climactic final encounter.

It was oddly exhilerating and cathartic.

Also, it means that the players managed to get through the whole of Act Three of Gorged on Ruins without getting into a single fight, which is pretty impressive.

Next week, a solo outing for King Baldrey. ...

Session 225, Part One - Recall to Risur

Recall to Risur

Though the diplomatic mission to Drakr had been successful in the short term, Korrigan was well aware that the Ob retained overall control and would regain the initiative in time. (The same applied to Ber, with the whimsical Bruse Shantus liable to change his tune at any minute. Korrigan had never liked him, and couldn’t help a slight twinge of regret that they had saved him. But for that, the altogether more reasonable Corta Nariz De Guerra might be Bruse.) Still, for the time being at least – with both Danor and Crisillyir in turmoil – they had fended off the immediate threat of invasion. Harkover had been begging the king to return to Risur as soon as he was able, and now Korrigan was content to leave matters in the hands of his trusted allies, and do as his Principal Minister advised. He teleported to Slate with Kai, Kieran Sentacore, Ayesha and Ayesha’s children. (Who doubled as playmates and bodyguards for Kai.) Amielle Latimer had offered to serve as an invisible bodyguard to the king, in Quratulain’s absence, but Korrigan decided that the risk was too great, and left her aboard the Coaltongue.

Harkover was concerned that the king’s ‘global gallivanting’, however warranted, undermined his position as king. A tour of the regions was suggested – not just for appearances; Harkover urged him to remember Aodhan’s advice: “The small things matter.” Especially in Risur, where the monarch drew literal, magical strength from his bond with the people. “You are very popular in Flint, and well-known throughout the civilised world. But you have almost no genuine connection with any other part of the country.”

Before he embarked on this tour, Korrigan met with his senior advisors at Torfeld Palace. The foremost item on the agenda were:

• Ongoing preparations for the defence of Risur. Much of the conversation focused on these tireless efforts before time was given over to the rest of the items.
• The date for the gubernatorial elections in Flint was drawing near. Thames Grimsley was a clear lead. Again, Korrigan could not help but sense that his advisors considered this election to be an ill-advised whim, and Grimsley’s poll position was cited as some sort of proof, for reasons that escaped him. Lauryn Cyneburg said that “less than reputable individuals with Family connections are working hard to get him elected, and are funding his campaign”. Beyond this simple fact, there was nothing to link them, nor any evidence of wrongdoing on Grimsley’s part.
• The first draft of the Baldrian Codes would be available for the king’s approval when he returned from his tour. Alderic Woodrow had been working on them for years, never dreaming that they would see the light of day. Korrigan was gratified that his old friend would be rewarded for his hard work and dedication, and the nation as a whole would benefit.
• To his surprise, an abridged version of his own treatise Risur: Our Land & Nation, had already been printed. Korrigan had expected that Dialogues by the Pyre would be published first, or Letters from Tomorrow. But Harkover had interceded and identified the Our Land & Nation, as the ideal tome to accompany the king’s tour of the regions, and cement his status as force for change.
• Other items included: the persistence of the hivemind phenomenon; a strange disease afflicting young children throughout Risur; an increase in superstitious practices, and violence predicated on superstition. Korrigan queried the hiveminds’ persistence in particular. Wasn’t it a side-effect of the gidim’s presence? And hadn’t they put an end to that? Harkover theorised that the psychic energy generating the hiveminds must be independent of the gidim, having flooded Lanjyr from Apet or beyond when the planar barriers were removed.

During the meeting, the latest word on the nature of the Gyre was also discussed: Following Asher Henton’s revelation that the Gyre was a destructive ‘graveyard of the planes’, much Skyseer attention had been focused upon it. Of growing concern was the fact that the world and its attendant planes were gradually drawing closer to the Gyre itself. In a matter of a year or two, it might risk being consumed. Korrigan asked about Av and how it came to be in the Gyre. This was clearly another side-effect of the Ob’s failure. And what of the strange phenomenon on Cauldron Hill? That too could be explained by the fact that the Hill was so closely linked to the Bleak Gate that it was almost more a part of that plane than it was the real world. Isaac, Mayor of the Nettles had been studying the Hill (which was now something like ten metres shorter) and felt that it was being drawn to Av when the Gyre was overhead. In a few months the hill would be gone entirely. “I’m guessing because Av is the new plane of death,” said Korrigan (demonstrating a faulty understanding of the planes, which no one was present was able to correct). “Oh well, I don’t suppose anyone will miss it.”

No death. What's the worst that could happen.

I'm going to write-in The Ragman as mayor.

RangerWickett said:

No death. What's the worst that could happen.

I'm going to write-in The Ragman as mayor.

Click to expand...

Poor writing on my part - Korrigan meant that no one would miss Cauldron Hill, not Av!